


Hospitality

by hydrangea



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Adventure, M/M, Youkai, a winter story, ridiculously sweet slife-of-life romance, though nyanko-sensei's attention was totally on the sake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8891614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydrangea/pseuds/hydrangea
Summary: Footsteps began to appear, burned deep into the ground and foul to all things that lived. At first, they wandered the foothills to the east and then they began to find purpose. Rumours began to spread. A youkai, the youkai—the youkai that had reclaimed his name from Natsume Reiko—had returned from its wandering of the forests beyond the human world.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ryuutchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuutchi/gifts).



> Thank you to Musus for the beta!

The winter that year was cold. Mountain winds swept down over the town and fields, layering the ground with ice and snow. The air burned as you breathed and lesser youkai went into hibernation as the greater beings from the deep forests came to hunt among the lower hills. Humans, blind and deaf to the other world, hurried from house to house in their daily lives, the cold awakening memories buried too deep to truly be memories: this was not a time to be outside.

Footsteps began to appear, burned deep into the ground and foul to all things that lived. At first, they wandered the foothills to the east and then they began to find purpose. Rumours began to spread. A youkai, _the_ youkai —the youkai that had reclaimed his name from Natsume Reiko—had returned from its wandering of the forests beyond the human world.

“Stay away,” the first whispers said as they spread from ayakashi to ayakashi. “Don’t disturb the wanderer. Don’t speak his name.”

Then the whispers stopped.

Word would not be carried to Natsume Reiko’s grandson.

The wait began.

 

Deep frost covered the ground on the morning Natsume stepped outside to find Tanuma leaning against the gate to the Fujiwara’s house. Scarf tugged up over his nose and hat pulled down over his ears, Tanuma nevertheless managed to look cold as he raised a hand in greeting. “Yo.”

Aware of the biting cold, Natsume hurried over. “Tanuma? Good morning—is something…?” He could count the number of times Tanuma had come to his house on his hands. For him to do so when the news spoke of closed passes and iced-over roads… Natsume’s stomach clenched.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to worry you.” Tanuma took the hat clenched in Natsume’s hand and tugged it down firmly over Natsume’s head. “Silly,” he scolded, then continued, “I wanted to speak with you. Thought I’d catch you before school, but… Touko-san looks worried.”

Natsume looked over his shoulder; Touko-san hovered by the windows, wiping cloth in one hand and a furrow between her brows. “Aaah.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and fell in beside Tanuma as they began to walk. “How did you…?”

“Walked.” Tanuma half-smiled with that deeply set self-deprecation that seemed odd on any face but Natsume’s own when Natsume gave him a disbelieving look. He tugged his mitten cuff down, the glimpse of foil inside easing Natsume’s sudden worry. “Father stored up on heat packs during the autumn. ‘Since you’ll want to spend time with our friends’, he said.”

Natsume half-smiled, remembering the packed lunch in his bag, the extra treats Touko-san had packed and the sausage tucked in its own corner that Natsume didn’t favour but Nyanko-sensei did. “Aaah.”

A brush of a hand against his sent his breath stuttering for a moment. He glanced at Tanuma, who was staring at the ground in front of them intently, cheeks pink.

 _People are going to stare_ , Natsume thought. Then, _but it’s worth it_.

Tanuma’s hand was warm from the heat pack, but as their fingers curled together it felt as if that was the least of what sent heat racing up his arm.

 

The first time that Tanuma touched him had been at the end of summer. They were sitting under a great oak, exhausted from hunting a mischievous ayakashi with a taste for scaring young children. The air was hot from an unrelenting sun and the shade of the oak only barely made the heat more bearable.

Tanuma had picked a leaf from Natsume’s hair, saying something disparaging about Natsume’s tendency to barrel through thickets during a chase. Natsume had retorted—with what, he couldn’t remember—and then had flushed to the roots of his hair as Tanuma’s hand slid from his hair to his cheek.

None of them had said anything, not even Nyanko-sensei, settled into the branches high above them. Natsume would never forget the way he lost his breath as Tanuma leaned in, nor the sharp disappointment as the ayakashi they had been looking for came running by.

 

They walked in silence for a good ways, hands clasped. Briefly, they were accompanied by a creature skittering beside the road before the sound of its footsteps disappeared down a side road and faded away without Natsume catching more than a brief glimpse of carmine red against the white of the snow.

Then, as they entered town and their hands parted ways, Tanuma spoke. “My father has found traces of something walking the borders of the shrine grounds.”

Feeling oddly cold since losing the warmth of Tanuma’s hand, Natsume kept his eyes on the ground. He didn’t know what someone who saw his face would read on it, and he didn’t want to know. “Ayakashi?”

“Perhaps. It leaves footsteps behind, black ones that melt the snow and kill whatever was growing around them. We can see them and… they make me feel ill.”

It didn’t sound like an ayakashi—and if the sight of them made Tanuma ill… Only something strong would come close to Yatsuhara while Tanuma’s father purified the grounds daily.

“I’ll ask around.” Perhaps Nyanko-sensei would know something—or Hinoe. A youkai strong enough to withstand the presence of purified grounds…

“You could come visit.” Tanuma’s shoulders tensed and Natsume felt himself grow stiff in response. “My father… You could have a look at them.”

Natsume coughed. Flushed. “Aaah. I mean, I could.”

“Father said he could walk us back after school,” Tanuma offered. “He’ll show you the footsteps and then we can have tea. You could call Touko-san from the house.”

It was sensible – rational even. There was no reason for him to feel this flushed. “Aaah.”

Tanuma smiled, bumped Natsume’s fist, then headed off to his home classroom as Kitamoto and Nishimura closed in on Natsume.

“Coming with us after school?” Nishimura asked as they headed for their own classroom. “Hikari-chan has a new CD! She’s so cute!”

“Aaah, not today.”

As he resisted Nishimura’s and Kitamoto’s attempts to interrogate him about his plans, Natsume couldn’t help but anticipate the afternoon, and not even the constant barrage of questions could wipe the smile from his face.

 

The sun sat low in the sky when the school day ended. True to his word, Tanuma’s father waited near the school gates for Natsume and his son, weighed down by bags of shopping that Natsume and Tanuma hurriedly took from him, despite his protestations that he still had plenty of strength at his age.

Walking towards the Yatsuhara shrine, Tanuma’s father kept the mood bright as he chatted about this and that while Natsume restricted himself to polite comments, wary of giving offense.

“Your father is very impressive,” he told Tanuma quietly as Tanuma’s father went briefly into a shop to buy a small thing.

“Aaah.” Tanuma looked at his father through the windows. “He’s always taken good care of me.”

“I sometimes envy you,” Natsume admitted.

Tanuma only smiled in reply as his father returned outside, but made sure to bump Natsume’s shoulder softly as they began to walk again. _I know_ , the bump said, _and I’m sorry_. Natsume wasn’t sure how much Tanuma knew but… sometimes, he wondered if the question wasn’t how much Tanuma _didn’t_ know.

As they reached the shrine, they dropped the shopping off along with their school bags before Tanuma’s father made sure they were dressed for the deeper snow of the forest. He then led them onto one of the smaller paths across the grounds, Natsume following with Tanuma half a step behind.

A small brook ran along the edge of the shrine, marking the boundary between the new and the old rounds. It was frozen solid, only a vague dance of shadows deep inside the ice hinting of a small trickle far beneath. A red-painted bridge led across it, cleared of snow, connecting the well-trodden path of the new shrine with a snow-covered trail into the forest beyond the grounds.

“There’s a small shrine remaining a few minutes’ walk into the forest,” Tanuma’s father explained as they crossed the bridge. “We leave food and sake there from time to time—and it seems well received by our neighbours.” His eyes twinkled. “It wouldn’t do to be on bad terms with them after all.”

“The food disappears fast,” Tanuma added, coming up at Natsume’s shoulder. Hidden by their bodies, he rested a hand at Natsume’s back, the heat searing even through their thick winter jackets. “Sometimes they leave something behind for us to find.”

“I place the flowers in the shrine,” Tanuma’s father said. “The scent is most pleasant—and here we are.”

Natsume smelled the footsteps before he could see them. A burning stench that threatened to make him retch. He leaned past Tanuma’s father—and had to slap a hand over his mouth. The miasma was strong—very strong.

“Step back,” Tanuma’s father cautioned. Tanuma grabbed Natsume’s coat and yanked him back. “My son manages better if he stays behind me perhaps that will help you as well.”

With the stench indeed fading, Natsume turned his back to it and focused instead on Tanuma’s face. It had a green tint to it, but he looked far from as bad as he had on other occasions.

“It influences you too, eh,” Tanuma said, taking Natsume’s hand out of sight of his father. “You look pale.”

“Aaah.” He would need to bring Nyanko-sensei here. This youkai… it was strong. “Has it—has it hurt anyone?”

“No,” Tanuma’s father replied. “I purify the footsteps when I find them, but they have yet to stop appearing. And… I have a responsibility for this shrine—and all the beings inside of it.”

 

Tanuma walked Natsume back into town later; his hand warm as it held Natsume’s and his body a welcome shield against the creatures that moved around them as they walked.

“My father can’t see the ayakashi,” Tanuma said, “and he can’t sense them at all. But… I think that as long as they don’t hurt anyone, he doesn’t mind their presence. Since the footsteps appeared, no one has come to claim the food we leave. He… worries.”

And Tanuma worried with him.

“I will come tomorrow,” Natsume offered. “I’m sure Nyanko-sensei and I can figure it out.”

Tanuma smiled. “I’ll make sure we have dumplings.”

 

“You’re such a softie.” Nyanko-sensei neatly tucked in his front paws and managed to convey great disapproval at Natsume’s proposal to help Tanuma even with fish scales all over his face. “Why would you go searching for this low-level no-name youkai? It sounds like it’s not even leaving the forest.”

“I owe it to Tanuma,” Natsume repeated and stuffed the Book of Friends into his bag—perhaps it would have its name in there, perhaps this would be as uncomplicated as giving a name back. “You don’t have to come. I can ask—“

“Tanuma?” Nyanko repeated, ears perked. “The youkai, it’s at Yatsuhara shrine?”

Natsume glanced at Nyanko-sensei—then frowned. Nyanko-sensei looked almost… alarmed.  “Aaah.”

Nyanko-sensei jumped to his feet. “Then what are we waiting for! If this waste of space pollutes the forest, there won’t be any more sake at Yatsuhara!”

“The sake is it?” Natsume sighed.

“Of course it is!” Nyanko flailed for the door handle, then stared at Natsume when he didn’t move as fast as Nyanko-sensei wanted. “Is there anything more important than sake? Hurry up!”

“Coming!” Natsume flung the bag over his shoulder. Whatever reason Nyanko-sensei had for coming, he would take it. There was something about the footsteps…  Natsume shivered. He had the oddest feeling this wouldn’t end well.

 

The heavy foliage of the forest behind the shrine sent heavy shadows sprawling over the ground that left the dark of night even darker. The heavy snowfall of the past few days made the terrain hard to travel across and Natsume found himself stumbling over roots and stones that would normally have been visible. Nyanko simply ploughed a path through the snow with the sheer mass of his body, pausing every now and then to sling a taunt about Natsume’s purported clumsiness.

They had reached beyond Yatsuhara and were nearing the small shrine when a flicker in the corner of Natsume’s eye caught his attention. It couldn’t be—“Tanuma?”

A gust of wind slammed into him, tangled into his clothing and bit into his face. “Who are you?” a voice hissed, part of the wind, Natsume thought, until something solid he couldn’t quite see amassed in the darkness beyond his vision.

Natsume pushed against the continuous wind, trying to find purchase, to push himself out of the youkai’s reach. Then—

Then the wind calmed and the youkai stepped closer. “Natsume,” it hissed, “Natsume Reiko. You return.” It came closer, and suddenly—suddenly Natsume could see Tanuma’s face in front of him. Or almost: the eyes, they were a deep black, without a pupil, and so different from Tanuma’s that Natsume could barely see the similarities anymore. “I didn’t take you for a fool.”

Natsume darted out of the reach of an outstretched hand, scurrying behind a struggling sapling. “Why do you look like Tanuma?” he demanded.

The now familiar wind slammed into him, pinned him against a massive trunk behind him.

“I should eat you.” The youkai was close enough that Natsume could feel its breath on his face. It _felt_ like Tanuma, he realized the same edge of power that no regular human could feel. “I let you go once and yet you return. Do you think I will let you win again, _Reiko_? Let you pretend that I am someone else another time?”

Someone else? What did he mean? “What face?”

The youkai’s face flickered, going from Tanuma’s face to someone else—a boy with oddly warm eyes. “Have you already forgotten? Have you forgotten how you cried—“

Natsume reacted by instinct as the youkai stepped closer. His fist slammed straight into the nose of whatever boy the youkai had chosen for his face, the youkai flying backwards. “Get away from me!”

A sudden weight on his shoulder alerted him to Nyanko-sensei’s appearance. “Don’t waste your time on this weakling! Let’s just banish it and be rid of it!”

Natsume ignored him and stalked towards the youkai. “How did you get that face?”

The youkai smirked, its face once again becoming Tanuma’s. “Does this face mean something to you? Do you want me to _smile_ at you again?” It was suddenly close enough to Natsume that the stench of it threatened to make his knees give out. “Do you want me to _kiss_ you again?”

A flicker of memory crossed between them—

_“Would you smile for me?” Reiko’s face was oddly vulnerable. “I will let you go if you do.”_

\--and Natsume had had enough.

“No.”

Natsume gathered himself.

 “ _No.”_

He flung himself backwards. “Nyanko-sensei!”

“I’ve got him!”

A blue light lit up the forest, first small and then expanding and exploding into a million fireflies that circled the clearing—

_“If I win, you will give me your name, and… and you will pretend to be him for a day.”_

_The youkai’s face shifted—into a kind-eyed boy, into a bald man, into a young girl. “I will eat you,” it promised. “I will eat you and gain your face.”_

_“Do we have a deal?”_

_“Deal.”_

The youkai, it took the faces of the ones it ate, Natsume realized as the world settled back into normal, the forest no longer seeming as black as it had been. And—and now that he thought of it, it hadn’t been Tanuma’s face it had been wearing, not quite.

“He must have eaten Tanuma’s ancestor.” Nyanko sat on what remained after the purification, licking a paw. “That’s probably why he was drawn here. Tanuma seems to be quite like his ancestor.”

“He met my grandmother.” Natsume thought about the expression on Reiko’s face, the sense of desperation that she had refused to show on her face but had nevertheless been clear to anyone that knew her.

Nyanko jumped onto Natsume’s shoulder and nuzzled him. “Reiko had her problems. Don’t think too much of them, idiot. Stick to your own problems.”

“I should probably tell Tanuma that the youkai is gone,” Natsume mused as he began to walk towards Yatsuhara.

“I want those dumplings he fed me,” Nyanko announced and took off.

Natsume chased after. “Nyanko-sensei! Don’t be rude!”

“What you can’t  see can’t hurt you!”

 

The following day Natsume walked back to Yatsuhara with Tanuma. Gathering the supplies Tanuma’s father set aside, they crossed the bridge to the forest and walked to the shrine to leave the food and sake. There was no trace of the footsteps and no sign of the fight of the previous day.

On the way back, as they walked across the bridge, Tanuma grabbed Natsume’s hand to stop him. “You said the youkai wore my face.”

“Aaah.” Natsume found his eyes flittering away from Tanuma and had to force himself to meet his eyes. “Nyanko-sensei says that it collects faces—that my grandmother… He said that probably the youkai ate an ancestor of yours.”

“Oh, so that was how it was.” Tanuma looked thoughtful. “For a moment I wondered if it was some sort of desire demon.”

Natsume went red. “D-desire demon?”

Tanuma half-smiled, then reached out to ruffle Natsume’s hair. “I guess I was wrong.”

Ignoring the scared voice in his head, Natsume stepped closer. “Maybe in some things.”

 

Only a week after that, the snow began to melt and the first signs of spring appeared. It was, however, not the last time that Tanuma and Natsume walked across that bridge together.

Far from it.

 

 


End file.
